Bloody Birthdays
by Grace-Logan
Summary: The gym is silent, the door is locked, he's sure school only just ended and he's never been late before. What is going on?


Bloody Birthdays 12/22/2014

The gym door was closed when Kageyama reached the walkway between the school building and their gym after school, no sound came from within and Kageyama was running a late so he knew everyone should have already been there. Had practice been canceled without him knowing? Was the team playing some kind of joke on him? Where was everyone else? All the other students that took their sweet time exiting the grounds after school to stay and talk to their friends for a few more minutes?

How did he get here in the first place? He didn't remember leaving class, he didn't think anyone had stopped him so why was he late? He was never late. What the hell was going on.

His hand reached for the door, his heart pounding in his chest as if he sensed something was off about this. The gym lights were on, had it always been this dark or had he been standing in the walkway for hours? He could have sworn school had just let out only a few minutes ago. This was weird.

The door was locked. That was normal, he'd just have to find a window to break in, hold on, that's not normal, that's definitely not normal, the door was always unlocked, always open as if inviting him in, when they were practicing that is. Again he noticed the abnormal silence of his surroundings, no wind, no clouds, no sun, no moon, no stars, but he could still see.

He found himself slamming a rock into a window on the side of the gym before he could stop himself. Why was he doing this? He was hurting the gym what the hell was going on? Why did it sound like there was water dripping onto the floor boards in the gym?

He hoisted himself in the window, got stuck halfway and had to fall to the ground head first, arms out so he could flip himself over. His hands stung as they hit the glass on the floor and cut into his palms. He ignored the copious amounts of blood flowing from the little cuts in his hands, they didn't hurt. They should hurt though, shouldn't they? The blood exiting his body was too much for just the scrapes on his palms, right?

He looked at the clock before anything else when he got to his feet, it was 11:58pm, surely practice hadn't lasted that long. The ticking of the clock got louder, echoing threw the gym along with the sound of dripping water. 'Again with the water', he thought the sound irritating him, he had to find the source of that and make it stop. He didn't have to look far. The ticking got louder and faster, the drops were moving in slow motion, a creak of rope on metal drew his eyes upwards.

Suga was in the middle, Hinata on his left and Daichi on his right, the rest of the first years hanging in a line next to Hinata, Asahi and the Second years by Daichi there eyes gouged out of their skulls, mouths torn from ear to ear in bone chilling smiles, lips carved out of their faces, nooses around each neck. The ticking got louder, he watched them swing back and forth lightly in a nonexistent breeze, little paper cut sized lesions covering their every thing but their faces bleeding them all dry, drops falling into the huge puddle underneath them.

He looked back to the clock, 11:59, three ticks and it would be midnight. Tick, Tick, Tick. Movement had him turning to the puddle before him as it shifted forming words.

H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y

The ropes snapped, their bodies fell with a dull thud, a wet squelch and sunk into the floor, into the blood, or was the blood rising to cover them? Liquid sunk into his socks making his feet wet and uncomfortable as it ran down his legs, he looked down, gasped and pulled on the glass shard buried in his abdomen, it sunk further into his skin. The blood was rising, if he pushed the glass through he could get it out. He dug his fingers into the wound, pried it open and shoved against the glass with his other hand.

It wasn't hurting but the blood was already at his waist and rising further with every second, he had to get the glass through him, he pushed harder, harder, the blood was halfway up his chest, soaking his uniform and pressing against him from all sides, he couldn't breathe. He felt the glass scratching at the back of his skin, carving into the flesh inside his body but it wouldn't go through!

Blood sloshed into his mouth, forcing him to swallow it, it's bitter copper like taste burning his tongue, he shoved against the glass again, bending over to shove his hand all the way into this body. The blood around him rose over his head, he was floating, he needed to breathe, opened his mouth and received blood instead forcing it's way down his throat, into his lungs that burned like he'd breathed in acid, he clawed at his throat and kicked with his feet, every breath he tried to take leaving him with another mouthful blood.

'No air, I need air, I need-.'

He kicked up and gasped, a hand flying to his throat in the darkness, crisp cold air filled his lungs. He turned to his clock, 12:01, he panted and looked below to the display date, 22nd/12, He flopped onto his back, threw an arm over his eyes the other left to massage his dry throat.

'What a nightmare', he thought.

The gym door was closed when Kageyama reached the walkway between the school building and their gym after school. No sound came from within and Kageyama was running a late so he knew everyone should have already been there. Had practice been canceled without him knowing? Was the team playing some kind of joke on him? Where was everyone else? All other students that took their sweet time exiting the grounds after school to stay and talk to their friends for a few more minutes?

How did he get here in the first place? He didn't remember leaving class, he didn't think anyone had stopped him so why was he late? He was never late. What the hell was going on.

His hand reached for the door, his heart pounding in his chest as if he sensed something was off about this. The gym lights were on, had it always been this dark or had he been standing in the walkway for hours? He could have sworn school had just let out only a few minutes ago. This was weird.

The door was locked. That was normal, he'd just have to find a window to break in. Hold on, that's not normal. That's definitely not normal. The door was always unlocked, always open as if inviting him in, when they were practicing that is. Again he noticed the abnormal silence of his surroundings, no wind, no clouds, no sun, no moon, no stars, but he could still see.

He found himself slamming a rock into a window on the side of the gym before he could stop himself. Why was he doing this? He was hurting the gym what the hell was going on? Why did it sound like there was water dripping onto the floor boards in the gym?

He hoisted himself in the window, got stuck halfway and had to fall to the ground head first, arms out so he could flip himself over. His hands stung as they hit the glass on the floor and cut into his palms. He ignored the copious amounts of blood flowing from the little cuts in his hands, they didn't hurt. They should hurt though, shouldn't they? The blood exiting his body was too much for just the scrapes on his palms, right?

He looked at the clock before anything else when he got to his feet, it was 11:58pm, surely practice hadn't lasted that long. The ticking of the clock got louder, echoing threw the gym along with the sound of dripping water. 'Again with the water', he thought the sound irritating him, he had to find the source of that and make it stop. He didn't have to look far. The ticking got louder and faster, the drops were moving in slow motion, a creak of rope on metal drew his eyes upwards.

Suga was in the middle, Hinata on his left and Daichi on his right. The rest of the first years hanging in a line next to Hinata, Asahi and the Second years by Daichi. Their eyes gouged out of their skulls. Mouths torn from ear to ear in bone chilling smiles. Lips carved out of their faces, nooses around each neck.

The ticking got louder. He watched them sway back and forth in a nonexistent breeze. Paper cut sized lesions covering their bodies and bleeding them all dry. Drops of their blood falling into the huge puddle underneath them.

He looked back to the clock, 11:59, three ticks and it would be midnight. Tick, Tick, Tick. Movement had him turning to the puddle before him as it shifted forming words.

H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y

The ropes snapped, bodies fell with a dull thud, a wet squelch and sunk into the floor, into the blood, or was the blood rising to cover them? Liquid sunk through his shoes making his feet wet and uncomfortable. It ran down his legs, he looked down, gasped and pulled on the glass shard buried in his abdomen, it sunk further into his skin.

The blood was rising lukewarm around his knees. If he pushed the glass through he could get it out. He dug his fingers into the wound, pried it open and shoved against the glass with his other hand.

It wasn't hurting but the blood was already at his waist and rising further with every second, he had to get the glass through him. He pushed harder, harder. The blood was halfway up his chest, soaking his uniform and pressing against him from all sides, he couldn't breathe. He felt the glass scratching at the back of his skin, carving into the flesh inside his body but it wouldn't go through!

Blood sloshed into his mouth forcing him to swallow it, its bitter copper like taste burning his tongue. He shoved against the glass again, bending over to shove his hand all the way into this body. The blood around him rose over his head and he was floating. He needed to breathe, he needed air. He opened his mouth and blood instead forced its way down his throat, into his lungs that burned like he'd breathed in acid. He clawed at his throat and kicked with his feet, every breath he tried to take leaving him with another mouthful blood.

'No air, I need air, I need-.'

He kicked up and gasped, a hand flying to his throat in the darkness, crisp cold air filled his lungs. He turned to his clock, 12:01, panting he looked below to the display date, 22nd/12, and flopped onto his back. He threw an arm over his eyes the other left to massage his dry throat.

'What a nightmare', he thought.


End file.
